


Houses in Motion

by Dyslexic_Marvel



Category: Avengers (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: And stitches, Bed-Sty, Bruce Needs a Hug, Bruce needs a chill pill, Clint Needs a Hug, Did I mention a SLOW SLOW build, Dumm-E is a Dummy, Eventual Hulkeye, M/M, Natasha is way too good at her job., PTSD, Self Harm, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:53:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1461589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dyslexic_Marvel/pseuds/Dyslexic_Marvel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce decides he needs to a place to escape to, even if it is still under the watchful eye of S.H.I.E.L.D. Natasha finds him a place to live, which little does he know, is in Clint's apartment building in Bed-Sty. Clint is barely holding it together when he finds out one of his tenants dies during the invasion and some random new guy is coming to take his place. If his hands didn't shake he'd probably try to shoot the guy.</p>
<p>Takes place after the first Avengers movie, but before Iron Man 3 and Winter Soldier. Primarily using the Hawkeye comics as a base, with only the invasion of Manhattan as Clint's most recent back story. </p>
<p>Eventual Hulkeye, if the cards fall as they're supposed to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our House

“Dumm-E I said put that down!” Bruce yelled for close to the 20th time that day. Dumm-e kept thinking that just because Bruce was using a Bunsen burner for an experiment, he needed to follow Bruce around all day with a fire extinguisher.

 

“Sir, do you require Assistance?” Tony’s overly helpful AI asked.

 

“Yes J.A.R.V.I.S, please keep Dumm-E, OUT OF MY LAB!!!” Bruce roared at the ceiling, a greenish flair coming to his eyes for just a moment.

 

Dumm-E didn’t need to be asked a 23rd time, and flew out of the room, almost knocking Tony off his feet in the process.

 

“WOAH! Where’s the fire?” Tony asked as he dodged a fleeing robot. If the lack of verbal response wasn’t enough, the death glare Bruce sent him was certainly enough to get him to drop that line of thought. “Okay so bad joke? Come on, Brucie, you haven’t left the Lab in over 40 hours, and that’s coming from me. Rich right? Don’t you think you should meditate, drink your chai or something so we don’t have a not so little Green… okay shutting up.”

 

Somehow in his past month or so of living in the tower with Tony Stark, Bruce seemed to be the only person besides Pepper who can shut Tony up with a glance. Bruce slowly put his back to Tony, whose head he hoped would burst into flames with the amount of heat he was putting into his glare.

 

He’d been trying to keep himself busy with research since the invasion but it’s been difficult as hell with S.H.I.E.L.D. breathing down his neck. They kept trying to keep an eye on him/keep him productive and claim to give him his space, while also tracking his every movement. Which, given wasn’t much. At all. He’d left Start tower only a hand full of times since he’d been released from S.H.I.E.L.D. and all but one of those times were to check in with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at non-disclosed locations. Never the helicarrier, that wouldn’t be a good idea. Never was, never will be. They’d simply pick him up in an unmarked black vehicle and take him to a different location each time to have a “chat” which OBVIOUSLY couldn’t have been done, you know, over the phone, or using video chat technology. Of course not. It was an easy way to test how he’d do in public. At first it had been in an open area outside of the city in Jersey. Of course the first time they try to take him out somewhere it would be putting Jersey people at risk and not New Yorkers. Because I mean, it’s Jersey. (At least they’d taken the GW Bridge instead of the tunnel, which would have been the single stupidest thing S.H.I.E.L.D. could have done). Then they’d met at a somewhat busy park on the lower east side. Then, a coffee shop in Chelsea, and lastly they’d gone up to Harlem. Harlem. Of all places they’d take him there. That was where his made himself heard on how he felt about them “testing his limits” during these conversations. In not so many words he said if they ever tried to trick him into going back to Harlem, a coffee shop, or any other location that would put anyone besides S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents at risk he’d personally make sure the “Other Guy” made an appearance that would make the damage on the helicarrier look like nothing more than a glorified Piñata. Of course he’d never actually act on it. He’d never intentionally put anyone at risk, even S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. That was just him letting off steam and enjoying watching a few people squirm. Of course Fury was not amused but they’ve had all of their chats over SKYPE ever since, which is totally fine by Bruce.

 

Tony was still slowly pacing around Bruce’s lab and poking at his current experiment when Bruce came back from his thoughts. “Sorry Tony, I really appreciate you letting me borrow Dumm-E and use this space and such, but I REALLY don’t need him trying to put out my experiment every time I start it up again.” Bruce had stopped the robot on most of its attempts to put out the supposed fire, but on the few times he’d been distracted and missed his chance, he’d had to start his experiment all over again. He only had so many samples of the Chitari’s DNA to use and the last thing he needed was to go begging S.H.I.E.L.D. Medical for more.

 

“Hey, Brucie, say no more, I completely understand! Half the reason I let you use Dumm-E is to get him out of my hair! I mean if he keeps doing this to you, how do you think he reacts when I’m welding. I mean really?! Before I know it, he’s sending off Code Red signals to J.A.R.V.I.S, and soon my entire fabrication lab is covered in Foam! Do you know how hard it is to get foam out of the suit’s circuit boards?”

 

Tony keeps talking while Bruce tried to get back to work. He does this pretty much everyday he’s in town. Comes from his lab to Bruce’s, tries to get him to leave the lab and pretty much acts as a hypocrite because Bruce knows he hasn’t been taking care of himself either. Tony hadn’t been sleeping, eating or even drinking that much recently, the latter being surprising. Probably Pepper. He’d been building suit, after suit, after suit. None of them quite meeting his supposed standards, which Bruce thought was just jargon for wanting to keep his hands busy. Bruce knew what that felt like. It’s why he stayed at the Tower. It wasn’t that he stayed for Tony, it was the work. Tony was in Malibu most of the time but would fly over here and use it as a rest stop after testing a new suit, or if he had an east coast meeting. After the invasion he’d insisted on Bruce stay in the tower. At least until they had the Loki indentation preserved for all time and had a party to celebrate. Bruce still couldn’t believe he had it covered in glass and pretty much positioned it as the center point of one of his living rooms. But he’d also allowed Bruce access to pretty much every lab in the Tower, eventually even giving him his own personalized apartment, on his own floor and even his own personalized R&D floor when Bruce threatened to leave. And it wasn’t that Bruce stayed because he was being bought. He just didn’t want Tony’s effort to go to waste if he left. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. Tony had welcomed him in with open arms and a research grant and how could Bruce say no to that. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself.

 

After a while Tony realized he was being ignored and left. Which Bruce had been doing unintentionally. Saying “Bye Tony” so late that he wasn’t even sure if Tony heard him or not. He kind of didn’t care. He was antsy. He was stressed (when wasn’t he, but still) and he needed to move. He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t let him wonder on his own again and now that he knew Agent Romanov could find him, he really didn’t feel like running when he knew he’d be found. He felt like he was out of options.

 

After another hour or so of him not being able to concentrate he had J.A.R.V.I.S, save his findings, turned off all the machines and made his way to meditate. Oddly enough he’d taken to meditating on the roof, looking out over the buildings, for a 360-degree view that helped him center himself. He saw every reason he needed to not release the Other Guy. He knew he was looking out over millions of people, who would all be that much safer if he’d just take a chill pill.

 

So he went to his floor, showered for what he realized was the first time in days, changed and grabbed his yoga mat. He made himself a cup of his favorite tea, and made his way upstairs. Not actually taking the stairs because while he didn’t know the exact number of floors of the tower, if his calculations were correct, using the distance and time it took to travel between his apartment and his lab which where a known distance apart, he calculated that the Tower was around 102 – 104 floors tall. Considering he lived on the 54th, there was no way he was walking that. So he headed up in the largest elevator the tower had to help minimize the claustrophobia he couldn’t quite keep hidden. As he arrived on the roof, he walked out to see someone in his spot.

 

Agent Romanov sat on what looked like a hand woven blanket from somewhere in Central America. _Probably Ecuadorian_ , Bruce thought, looking at the patterns and colors. He’d traveled enough to get a basic idea of most native cultures in the areas he’d traveled. He’d been through Ecuador briefly on his way to Brazil.

 

“There is plenty of room up here for two of us Doctor Banner.” Natasha said not appearing to have moved or to have had anyway to notice.

 

_Damn spidey senses_ Bruce grumbled in his brain “I don’t want to intrude Agent Romanov. Have a good…” Bruce paused realizing he had no idea what time it was. Looking at the sun quick. “…afternoon.” He mumbled, somewhat disappointed. _I’ve got to get a watch._

 

As he went to leave he was surprised to see that Natasha had turned around and was looking at him with what for her was a very sad expression. To any normal passerby it looked like a normal blank expression, but Bruce could see the slight downward tilt of her eyebrows, and the slight closing of her eyes.

 

“I’m not on duty now Doctor, nor are we in the field. You can call me Natastha.” She said almost hesitating at her own name.

 

Bruce was honestly shocked. They’d interacted outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. several times, however briefly; mostly due to her using the Tower as a base for her down time, what little she seemed to have. They’d also had dinner together, or should he say they happened to eat in the kitchen at the same time a few times recently. Always in silence, but not awkwardly so. Bruce always assumed that she was still terrified of him, though he couldn’t smell her fear anymore which was as comforting as it was somewhat creepy.

 

“And you wouldn’t be intruding Dr…. Bruce. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

 

Something was up. Must have been a recent mission. Bruce wasn’t sure it was specifically bad, based on how informal she was being, but it was that familiarity that was startling to him. A month and change ago he’d tried to kill her. So had her partner. She’d welcomed Clint back with open arms and seemed to ignore Bruce unless they had a debriefing or some S.H.I.E.L.D. business. But this was the first time she’d used his first name. Ever he thinks… definitely since the invasion.

 

He slowly turned around completely to get a good look at her and he found nothing but her appearing earnest in her request.

 

“Okay” He surprised himself by saying. He slowly walked over, and placed his mat a few feet from hers. Not as if he was trying to avoid her, but hopefully just far enough to give them both breathing room. He slowly toed off his Birkenstocks and put them to the side along with his mug. She somewhat smirked at his shoe choice. He noticed.

 

“Yes, I am a grown man that meditates, does yoga and wears Birkenstocks. But no I don’t smoke pot. At least not any more.” He surprised himself by being that forth coming.

 

“I’m actually surprised you used to smoke at all. Not that you’d want to try something to relax but that you’d do something intentionally illegal. I didn’t know you were a rebel in your youth.” She said trying to keep a somewhat straight face and not really succeeding.

 

Bruce actually snorted at the word rebel. “That’s me.” He retorted. “A scientific version of James Dean, Rebel Without a Cause, but with a graduated cylinder.” He paused slightly as he remembered how things had changed. “Though I guess I found my reason eventually or the reason found me I suppose.” His face falling as his brain went to the events of his last few years in Grad school and the “cause” of his present situation.

 

Realizing he’d successfully derailed what may have been his first normal conversation in months, he set about starting to meditate. It had oddly seemed too easy to talk to her, but Natasha didn’t seem to mind the silence.

 

They both kept meditating for maybe an hour or so before Natasha slowly got up and started to roll up her mat. As she stood she stepped into what looked like Crocs, and out of the corner of his eye Bruce gave a snort without meaning to.

 

Knowing what he found amusing she opened her mouth to give him a smart comeback but he cut her off, “And here I pictured you as more of an Uggs gal.” He turned his head to face her as he spoke and was shocked to see an honest to god smile on Natasha’s face. Not quite the kind he’d seen her make when Clint got released, but still an honest smile nonetheless. He couldn't help but return it. 

 

“We all have our surprises Doctor.” She said as she slowly put a hand on his shoulder. Not even it’s full weight, but just a slight touch. Her way of saying, _I’m not afraid of you anymore._ She turned and started to head towards the elevator but paused before walking into the open doors. “When I’m staying at the Tower I’m usually up here around this time. Which is around 3:15 Doctor, since you obviously forgot your watch.” She said with another small smirk.

 

“That I did. I’ve gotten out of the habit of wearing them since the Other guy keeps breaking my favorites.” The truth in that out weighed the funny image, but not by much.

 

Natastha smirked again and shook her head. Making eye contact one last time, “Enjoy your day, Bruce.”

 

“You too, Natasha.”


	2. Same as it Ever Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint comes home expecting to find the place he left behind. But what he found were reminders of his failures. Some anger induced self harm here!

Of course it hadn’t changed. The Invasion/damage had been specifically constrained to Central Manhattan. Which Clint didn’t know was better or worse than having it centered elsewhere. Not that they had much say in the matter. But at least most of the damage stayed out of Bed-Sty. He thought he’d have been excited to come home and get back to dealing with his daily shit. Like dealing with the Track Suits trying to take over his building, or his brother suddenly being back or you know dealing with his Ex-wife, now Ex-girlfriend, or work wife telling him how badly he’s fucked up recently… Who’s he kidding. Tasha would never tell him that to his face, she wouldn’t need to.

 

After the invasion he’d had to spend weeks intensely being interviewed, getting Psych eval. after eval. after eval. Physical tests to see if the Tesseract had left any lasting changes or damages. Natasha had to keep leaving on missions and clean up duty, but she had stopped by whenever she could. She even brought pizza for him and Pizza dog on the day he was getting released, not knowing Lucky was gone. He appreciated the thought anyway. He thought he’d want to come home to the only thing he could call normal in his life. His average bare bones apartment but now, standing in the doorway it was a lie.

 

He slowly walked through the doorway, shut the door behind him, dropped his bag of gear… and just stood there… and stared. At first he really didn’t feel much. The guilt he’d been wallowing in for weeks was pushed to the backburner for just a few moments as disappointment took over. His surroundings did nothing to make him feel at home. He felt like an outsider in is own home now. Great. Soon the guilt and pain came pushing to the surface. All of the lives of people who never got to return home because of him and he got to come home to half eaten pizza and a warm bed. He couldn’t stand it. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t real.

 

Looking at the walls that hadn’t changed, the still half assembled TV entertainment system, his spare quivers and arrows all over the place… They were all a lie. Nothing was the same. Nothing was how he left it. It was all in the exactly same place but everything he owned was now a constant reminder of how badly he’d fucked up; with the proof being just a few miles away.

 

He started to walk through the apartment. Hoping he’d calm down as he realized he was safe. Or at least was on his own territory. He walked past the couch and half eaten pizza boxes… it was obvious Barney had tried to stick around for him eating the left over pizza from the fridge, but must have left when he heard about what had happened. Yet another person Clint had let down. The only person left of his own flesh and blood and he’d let them down too. _That’s a happy thought I’m not getting out of my head any time soon. Christ._

 

He walked through the living room to his kitchen/ range. (Get it? Range? Oven Range, archery range? Forget it) Again everything seemed to be how he left it. His Human target was to the left of his shooting wall. They’d called him Pierce Broadsend… Not his idea. His eyes drifted and he saw the targets still pinned to the walls, arrows securing them in place. As he looked closer he realized there were more than just his arrows in the wall. The others were Katie’s from the last time they practiced together before she moved out with Lucky.

 

“Fuck,” the only word he could actually bring himself to verbalize. Out of all the people he’d let down recently. Besides trying to kill Natasha, which will forever be his living hell, what he’d done to Katie he’ll never be able to undo. She needed him. She wouldn’t admit it but she needed Clint to be a teacher, a partner, a friend and not only had he driven her and his fucking dog out of his life; she was now being hunted by Madame Mask all because she saved his live. He’d only found out about that the day before he was sent to guard the Tesseract. And what did he do? He’s left her on her own while he went out and did Loki’s bidding.

 

He’d let down Barney, Natasha, Katie, and literally the whole world. There is no one else he could let down at this point. Anger and hated at himself started to bubble to the surface. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Katie’s target. Perfect placement, perfect spread with her stupid purple and pink training arrows.

 

“Because in training I can afford to be impractical.” She’d snottily reply whenever he made fun of her for it. He would have pushed the issue if shots hadn’t been perfect. Every. Single. Time.  
  
            “Fucking sh…” He said as that memory clawed its way to the surface. Its sting was a lot worse than it should have been. Clint instantly darted over to the targets, hell bent on taking them down and getting rid of the evidence of his deceit. Or at least, what little evidence he had control over. He reached out and started yanking out her arrows one at a time. They were shot in a good several inches but they came out like silk. The smooth practice tips not getting stuck in the industrial foam backing of the targets. Just as Clint finished pulling the last arrow shaft out of the target he turned his attention to his own.

 

Since the Loki, incident, S.H.I.E.L.D.. evaluations had shown his shots were only 90% as accurate as they were before. This still keeps him as the best marksman in the organization, but it’s so far below his standards he considers it failure. He can’t stand to look at shots he could have made in his sleep before, and that now he’d be lucky if he was within an inch of them. He sees a perfect bullseye, and knows it has to go. He swiftly grabs the arrow shaft and yanks it as he’d done with Katie’s

 

It doesn’t budge.

 

He yanks again harder, quickly becoming infuriated. With a desperate, gasping wrench of his wrist he manages to rip out the broad head, and rip open his hand at the exact same time. Feeling the searing pain of his stupid mistake he flings the arrow across the room with a groan that was so close to a sob, hearing it himself had been his only clue that he was actually crying.

 

_Am I that FUCKING Stupid!_ He says as he examines the gash he’s put through the meat of his palm, but he knows his palm isn’t what he’s thinking about. How could he had forgotten that while Katie practiced shooting with weighted target tips, he’d always practice with his largest broad heads. _It’s easier to adjust for a lighter arrow than it is to guess about shot adjustments on the fly_ It’d always been his excuse to show off. “Start heavy and then lighten up” he’d always told her. Though she never listened. She didn’t need to.

 

As he examined the gash looking for debris, what he noticed one of his biggest reminders of what damage done. His hands shake.

 

For an archer or any marksman, it’s like a kiss of death. If you can’t hold your hands steady, what can you do? Hit within an inch of a target on a good day, or miss by a foot on a bad one. His trembling hands are what have caused him many a sleepless night. (or was it the other way around? Either/or)

As anger, self-loathing and grief took over him as he swiftly shot out a round house kick and snapped all of the remaining arrow shafts off the wall; leaving the broad heads buried in the target. As one foot came down the other shot out kicking Pierce the mannequin across the room, knocking over a book shelf in the process. Still not feeling in control, Clint lunged at the nearest vertical surface punching it with every bit of hate driven power he could muster, and promptly fractured his bow hand.

 

“FUCK!!” He screamed and promptly crumbled on the floor. His string hand needing stiches and the other needing a cast. _Great fucking job Clint, now even if you are approved for duty, you won’t be able to shoot. Brilliant_.

 

The pain being enough of a wake up call for him to be able to look around at the destruction he’d caused in his apartment. Broken arrows scattered, a somewhat humanoid figure laying in the distance, blood spatter all over the walls. He couldn’t help but chuckle. _Heh, probably what my brain looks like right about now. Hahe…_

 

Well chucking doesn’t really cover it. More like cackling. Clint nearly doubled over laughing his ass off leaning against the ripped and jagged remains of the target. Watching the blood from his hand drip down the broken arrow shafts…

 

“Well I don’t blame you for wanting to redecorate, but was the blood loss necessary?”

 

Clint whipped his head around trying to look at the person who’d just spoke. But managed to turn just in time to be tackled by a golden blur. He promptly felt like he was getting the furriest sponge bath of his life. As he pushed the yellow mass back to see the one eyed, slobbering, whining canine, he knew who must have been at the door.

 

Hugging Pizza Dog to his chest, he said, seemingly to the dog himself, “Couldn’t have knocked Hawkeye? Couldn’t you see I was a little busy?” He said with the closest thing he’d had to a smile in months.

 

“Well Hawkeye, no matter how busy you think you are, since when do I care if I’m interrupting?” She said with an obviously forced trademark smirk, but a smirk Clint was pretty sure he’d taught her. He didn’t miss the stress lines that went along with it though.

 

He slowly stood up, pushing a still whining and licking Lucky off his chest. As he tried to get to his feet, he realized he’d also managed to cut his knees on the broken arrows and tips, His guest had made her way down to his side as he struggled to right himself. As he straightened, ignoring the pain in his hands and legs, he felt his bashed hands being taken a hold of. A firm but soft grip, the same you’d have when examining a broken fletching to see if it can be salvaged.

 

With a close, sad eye, the girl looked over his hands, slowly turning them over to look at the damage on both sides. Once both sides had been seen, she slowly let them fall back to Clint’s sides. As she looked him in the eye, Clint was preparing himself for the lecture of his life. But all that left her mouth was;

 

“You know you owe me more practice arrows now, right?” she said with a happier version of the smirk she’d shown before.

 

_Man, I missed you Katie_. Was all Clint thought as he put his arms around her shoulders.

 

“I know Katie… I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Clint Chapter! the story will probably be based more around him then Bruce, though they will eventually meet. I actually wrote this chapter first, but realized it made more sense chronologically for the other to come first. 
> 
> Again comments and suggestions always welcome!


	3. Take me to the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Natasha started meditating regularly, until Natasha tries to set him up with someone.

“Seriously, she’s cute, and a Nanotechnology specialist. Why don’t you at least ask her out for coffee?” Natasha asked without interrupting her high knee position.

 

“Yeah, the Other Guy aside, the last time I left the Tower for something other than a mandatory S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting was to a charity event I didn’t know I was going to. Tony asked me to come with him on an “adventure” and used new scientific equipment as a bribe. Which Tony still owes me, by the way.” Bruce said trying to change the subject. He didn’t think it would work. He went to take a gulp of his tea, but managed to almost scald himself. _Damn, too absent minded._ He set down his mug and got joined Natasha in her stance.

 

This became a thing between them, rather quickly actually. Every afternoon, he’d take a break around the same time, intentionally or not, shower, and head up to the roof. Natasha would be there, already meditating. After a day or two she starting bringing up lunch for them both when she realized Bruce wasn’t eating much, and in turn Brue would brew her a cup of tea he thought she’d like. It was nice to find a routine outside of the lab. It was also so much easier to talk to her than he ever anticipated. Probably because she was trained to get information out of people, but it never felt like that with her. Or at least it hadn’t recently. It was just nice to have normal conversations every once in a while.

 

“That’s why I suggested coffee.” She replied prying Bruce away from his thoughts. “There’s a coffee shop in the base of the Tower. You wouldn’t need to leave.” _Damn, forgot about that._ Bruce thought with a grin.

 

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my romantic life? And you know the coffee location being only a small point compared to, you know, the Big Guy. I don’t think he’d even like coffee that much anyway.” Trying to make a joke of it. He doesn’t like using the Other Guy as an excuse for all of his shortcomings. Truth is, after Betty he’s had NO interest in seeing anyone. At all. Or even talking to most people for that matter. Tony seemed to be the only one until Natasha that could actually get him to hold a conversation. Even if most of his and Tony’s conversations were pretty much them having a scientific pissing match on each other. Not a Visual Bruce needed. _Ew…_ But suddenly Natasha stepped out of her comfort zone and actually asked Bruce for company. He had been so taken aback by the obvious reach for attention, that he knew it wasn’t a ploy… wasn’t it? If she really wanted information from him she’d have tried to slyly get it from him, not invite him for yoga and friendly banter.

 

Natasha got down from her pose and sat with her legs curled underneath her. Seeing that she wasn’t going to let this go easily, Bruce sighed and got down from his 3 point hand stand. Yes hand stand. Bruce was fit for being 42. Be wasn’t built like his teammates by any means but with his yoga he was lean. Now that he had stable access to a kitchen stocked with half of Whole Foods he didn’t have to worry about when his next decent meal was going to be. At least if he remembered to eat. His nutrition had gotten much better though. Living in Calcutta, for example he primarily lived off of rice, with a curry thrown in here or there. Not a balanced diet he’d suggest to anyone but him because, hey it wasn’t like he could starve. He’d tried.

 

As Bruce let his legs down and slowly raised his head and arms up he saw Natasha was staring at him. _She probably wants to plant me with an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. agent_ … Bruce thought as he centered himself. “What’s this about Natasha.” More of a statement than a question. “Not that I don’t appreciate the advice but we both know that’s not really something I’d feel comfortable doing. So what are you really getting at?” He expected her to look hurt, but she looked as blank as she always does, those fleeting smirks, and glances aside.

 

“You’re close to running again Bruce.” She said matter of factly. _When aren’t I…_ Bruce inwardly groaned, slowly rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses back on.

 

“I’m always close to running, how is that anything note worthy?” He asked trying not to sound like a dick. This was a line of questioning he really didn’t want to go down.

 

“Because you haven’t” She said flatly. “Something has changed. And I don’t know if that’s because you know S.H.I.E.L.D. could find you again, that I’ll find you again, or if you actually have a reason to stay. Or you’re hoping to find one.” Sounding almost hopeful as she reached the last part.

 

 _She’s so much more emotional that most people realize_ Bruce noticed, but not for this first time in the week of socializing. That was the thing about Natasha, she was always emotional, it was just hidden behind a frosted piece of glass. Before he could verbalize a response she started speaking again:

 

“When S.H.I.E.L.D. took me in. I didn’t want to stay.” She started keeping her eyes set on the horizon facing what Brue thought was Brooklyn, maybe Queens? He never learned where one ended and the other began. “I demanded they start sending me on missions as soon as I was released from my _training_.” Training obviously not being what she meant. She didn’t need to say it “I needed to move, be productive, have a goal in mind. Obviously they didn’t trust me being on my own so they gave me a partner and a handler…”

 

“Agent Barton and… Coulson.” Bruce asking feeling bad that he said Phil’s name first…

 

She just nodded. “Clint was the first to trust me. Well before I trusted him. He understood where I was coming from. He knew the need to always have a mission and feel that you were working toward something even if it was your own personal balance.” She paused then as if to collect herself from letting the crack in her façade turn into a flood “For you, Bruce, I think you know you can’t run anymore, but you also know yourself well enough that you can’t stay in just one place either.”

 

Bruce’s ears perked at what she had verbalized. “What are you suggesting?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“What if you had a secondary residence, or safe house, as you will, to get away from Stark, Manhattan, your research? A place where you can go, sort your thoughts and come back here when your mind is more steady. “ She paused again waiting to see if Bruce would cut in. He didn’t. The look on his face knew there had to be a catch with all this. No matter how interested he seemed to be.

 

“To be honest Bruce I’m staying grounded from missions because S.H.I.E.L.D. thinks you need someone to look after you. With Tony primarily in Malibu, Captain doing solo missions and Clint… Clint being temporarily relieved of duty, that leaves me.” _And there it is_. Bruce realized. Why she had seemingly let Bruce in, under her armor. _Because she knew she could give me an inch of humility and I’d cling to it. Shit._ He felt his blood pressure raise minutely and his eyes dilate. Not that he was angry with what she was saying. He should have seen this coming. He was more annoyed with himself for being so desperate for human contact he’s missed it.

 

“Agent Romanov, I don’t appreciate being…” He said starting to stand but didn’t finish his sentence before she’d grabbed his hand. He instantly riled back feeling his eyes flash green. He instantly regretted it and turned away from her trying to gather his thoughts. _Banner, chill the fuck out. You’re not even that upset at the moment, you’re just not paying attention_ Annoyed with himself he turned and went to apologize but Natasha cut him off.

 

“I told them in not so many words I would not spy on a teammate.” She replied with not a hint of fear behind her eyes. . Bruce stilled again, as his mind processed what she’d said and what he saw. She didn’t seem afraid and she called him, a teammate? Sure he’d still been to the Avenger’s meetings since the invasion. But he was never officially a member of the initiative. S.H.I.E.L.D. brought him on as a gamma radiation specialist, not as a super hero. He assumed he would be thrown aside as soon as he’d done all the research he could do. _Wow, you really are desperate to be of use aren’t you Banner. And to think you thought you were staying to not hurt Tony’s ego…_ He visually released the tension he’d been holding and let his shoulder sink, his face fell. He suddenly realized he’d been just as manipulative of Tony as Natasha was to him.

 

She slowly stood, reaching for his hand again. This time he didn’t pull away, but didn’t return it wither. Continuing in a quiet voice, obviously one she was trying to keep steady. “You’ve more than proven yourself that you are a member of this team. Both in the battle and after.” She paused to make sure he was having time to absorb the honestly in her voice. “Many of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents still don’t trust you, but I do. So does Tony, Cap, even Thor loves the other guy.” She said with a small upward turned grin. “ He thought Hulk’s sucker punch was amusing. Specifically when Tony convinced him it was his own version of a ‘bro fist bump.’” Her smirk grew as she spoke, like she remembered an inside joke. “Remind Tony to show you J.A.R.V.I.S.’s security footage of it. It’s rather amusing.” She turned her head and looked out over the city. “The entire team acknowledges that you are invaluable, both as Doctor Banner and the Hulk.”

 

“What of Agent Barton? Does he trust the Hulk.”

 

She let go of her hand then and obviously stilled. Bruce suddenly realized he’s made a huge error in bringing Barton up again. Things were obviously not really going well for him. Or least he’d heard. He started to apologize when she sadly replied, “He doesn’t trust anyone right now even me. Or should I say he doesn’t trust himself with me.” Her eyes showed just how much that lack of trust was hurting her. But she quickly swallowed it up, using her training to being her back to the task at and. “But considering he’s actually spent more time with the Hulk than he has with you, I’d say he at least trusts your other half to some degree.” She reached for Bruce’s tea that had been sitting on a nearby table, handing it to him slowly.

 

He knew Natasha was observant enough to know that, like Tony, Bruce wasn’t crazy about being handed things. It got his hands too close to another’s where they could try and slap manacles on him or taze him. But Bruce took the mug from her slowly, trying to give himself time to calculate how to say what he was thinking. He didn’t want to scare her way now that she was somewhat opening herself to him and being honest at the same time, but he needed to know what the endgame was. Sadly, there always was, specifically with just she’d just told him. “Natasha I greatly appreciate the last week or so. Being able to talk normally with someone, is, a luxury I haven’t had in a very long time. But what exactly are you suggesting I do? Everything you’ve said about me is true and I know you wouldn’t lie about your own inner workings, not now. So please, just tell me what you think I should do.” By the end of it he was coming across much more pleading than he’d meant to. In some ways he knew that was because he didn’t want to loose what little normal human contact he was getting from her, but also was scared S.H.I.E.L.D. was trying to manipulate him again. Or should he say, he KNEW S.H.I.E.L.D. was manipulating him now and wanted to know how.

 

“There’s an apartment building in a neighborhood of Brooklyn called Bedford-Stuyvesant, right over the bridge just south of Williamsburg. I know the owner and he recently had an apartment open up. There is already one Agent who happens to live there but that is only how I learned of the place. I’m not suggesting this place to have you be watched by us, nor are they there to spy on you. They are on leave from S.H.I.E.L.D. for the moment anyway…” She seemed to slow down speaking as she went on. When she couldn’t quiet bring her self to continue, he asked:

 

“Invasion aftermath?” She nodded. “Were they hurt?” he asked quietly. Obviously this agent was a peer, if not a friend based on the way she spoke of them.

 

She nodded again before continuing. “I’ve already had it cleared through S.H.I.E.L.D. and we will take care of your rent obviously. We’d supply all furnishings and anything you’d need, like we do here. The only thing they ask is that if you’re leaving either location, there or the Tower to go somewhere besides the other, you notify me. Not that you can’t travel as you wish, I just need to know where you are to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. off your back. But you can travel between the apartment and the Tower as frequently, or infrequently as you’d like. I will ask that you and I meet up minimum of once a week so I can keep telling S.H.I.E.L.D. how you’re doing.”

 

 _So she was just trying to keep tabs on me._ Bruce’s heart sank a little as he realized she was, yet again, just doing her job. But she spoke up,

 

“But I’d enjoy meeting up more than that, if you’d like. Another great thing about the apartment is you’d have full access to the roof so we could keep our meditations going. Technically all the tenants have access, but from what I’ve heard, people don’t go up there unless it’s for one of the apartment BBQs.” She said.

 

“Apartment BBQs?” Bruce asked with a grin. “So you are just trying to get me to be more social.” She smirked but didn’t respond. It sounded almost too good go be true. So it must be. There had to be a catch. Bruce needed more information. “Seriously though Natasha, is Brooklyn really the best place to put me? I mean, it’s technically more populated than Manhattan and what if something were to happen and I broke Brooklyn? Steve would never forgive me.” Bruce said only half kidding.

 

“That’s just another risk Bruce. The same risk that you’re taking now.” _She has a point._ Presently you have two options. In one situation you’re stuck in a highly populated area with no stress relief and only blocks away from the aftermath of the invasion.” Bruce had always tried to forget how close they were to the center of the devastation. Sometimes he thought he could still smell the Chitauri. He couldn’t really look southeast from the tower because you could still see some building smoking, from controlled demolitions. He couldn’t look North because that was Harlem, so he was pretty much stuck looking due south at the financial district or West at Jersey. Choices. She continued, “Or you could utilize two locations you know are safe, allowing you enough variation to prevent feeling claustrophobic and still give you the stability you know you want.”

 

Bruce sadly thought she had a point. He knew what he had been doing wasn’t working, or at least not very well. And that if something didn’t change soon, something would boil over or at least, someone. The last thing he needed was to put more, not so decorative craters in Tony’s Tower. But what if this doesn’t work either.

 

“Being a man of science, Doctor Banner I think you only really have one option. An Experiment.” She said making eye contact with him again for the first time in a while. She had that mischievous glint in her eye and was again trying to hide a smirk.

 

Bruce chuckled at her using his own curiosity against him. Breaking eye contact to sip at his tea. It was now the perfect temperature and all he’d had to do was wait for the right moment to enjoy it. _Really? Irony with tea? Is nothing sacred?_ He chuckled to himself at the comedy of it. There was no way he was winning this one. “Well Agent Romanov, we both know I’m not one to turn down an experiment.” He said letting a smirk creep upon his face.

 

And so did she, “Well then Doctor, seems like you have some packing to do.” She smiled and started walking toward the elevator. "But I shill think you should ask her out, since you'll still be around."  
  
 _Oh Brother..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is heading to Brooklyn! Things will start to become more interesting from here. I also live in Norther Jersey so all of the Jersey jokes, location specifics and such are actually true (Maybe not the Jersey insults, I'm just playing them up because I can) But stuff about Bed-Sty's location and such are accurate. Next few chapters will probably be posted quickly since I have them already written and I just need to edit them. But after around chapter 5, things will slow down. 
> 
> Please comment and give feedback! Thanks so much! Hope you're enjoying it!


	4. Life During War Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie and Clint catch up about what they'd missed in each other's lives... Neither is happy about what they hear.

“What do you MEAN you took down one of Masque’s hideouts AND over a dozen of her Life Model Decoys?!?! What the hell Katie? what were you thinking?!?!” Clint asked trying to sound stern but was too damn proud of her to make it anywhere close. Katie and Pizza dog sat there beaming at him.

 

“Impressive huh? Lucky helped too. And I actually found a use for all those trick arrows of yours. Those exploding tips really came in handy. Specifically when I rigged the car’s key fob to set them off using the same frequency.” Grinning from ear to ear. _Man, okay not fair. When did she surpass me in MacGyvering_. Clint couldn’t be prouder.

 

“Hawkeye, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t proud as hell. But seriously, you could have been killed! And what about Lucky? He could have been hurt or worse! I don’t think he has enough luck to save both your asses every time.” Again trying to be serious and again failing miserably.

 

“Well if someone hadn’t chased me out and then got used as a marionette, then maybe I would have had back up….” _Shit. Okay, not a good place to take Shit shit shit._ She regretted saying that even before it left her mouth. That’s another thing she’s pretty sure she’d learned from Clint. No. Filter. At all. Clint obviously froze at the comment and his eyes instantly fell, along with his shoulders. _Shit…_ “Clint I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…”

 

“You did.” He replied not looking up from his lap. “You did and you’re right.” Any of the humor or pride he’s had moment ago was gone. Along with any part of Clint Katie normally recognized. She wanted to try and console him but he continued. “When you needed me most I chased you out, and gave control of my skills to a Sociopathic god with an army. No you’re totally right.” He didn’t move except the trembling of his hands, which he obviously had no control of. Lucky put his nose on Clint’s lap and whined. When he didn’t get any response, he wormed his muzzle under Clint’s trembling hands and didn’t move. Clint let out an almost silent whine himself. Obviously fighting off every negative emotion you would have at one time.

 

_What’s happened to him?_ Katie couldn’t imagine what must have gone on in his head to turn the brash, smart ass archer she looked up to into the puddle of self loathing soup she say before her. Given if she had been in his position, she wasn’t sure she’d be feeling any different but at least she wore her emotions on her sleeve normally… Clint didn’t.

 

“Stop. Just stop okay. Look at me.” She said reaching to pull his hand up. But the second she got within a few inches his hand shot up and blocked her advance. Ignoring the sting in his most likely fractured hand. He had rage and fear in his eyes, though Katie didn’t think either were directed at her. She slowly lowered her hand back to the table and waited for him to calm down. When he realized he’s just lashed out at her for no reason, he let out a groan, bashed his hands on the table the threw himself out of his chair. He went to is usual spot leaning against the wall. Bloody palm print still present from earlier.

 

“Shit Katie, sorry. Just don’t… don’t do that again okay?” He said turning to her begging as he did. “I’m way too twitchy for my own good right now.” Obviously the hug they’d shared a few minutes prior had been when his defenses were completely down. Now they’re back up and probably not coming down again anytime soon. While she wondered what she could do to help, if anything, Clint asked from the window, “So what’s been new around here, do you know? How long have you been back from LA?” obviously wanting to keep the attention away from him for a while. He was leaning against a wall looking out at his neighborhood, favoring his broken hand, but not shifting form the position, which must be bothering it.

 

“Barney took care of the place for a while when we were both gone. Simone’s dish went out again and he managed to fix it somehow, and got you dish while he was at it. Not going to ask where he learned those skills. But I wish he’d managed to get HBO at least. I’m behind on Game of Thrones.” Clint chuckled appreciating Katie’s attempt at humoring him. “When Barney needed to head out he gave me a heads up, not wanting to leave the place unattended. So I headed back. Was planning on coming back anyway with Masque having vowed to ‘Kill me in California.’ So if I’m not there she can’t kill me right?” She paused checking his expression.

 

“ I did have to start collecting rent again though… Your bills were piling up and I didn’t have anything to pay them with, so I called a building meeting and everyone was fine with it. Since they know you won’t suddenly triple the rent on them they didn’t mind helping out while you were… away. We even have a new tenant coming in I think tomorrow. Should be a nice guy…”

 

“Wait new Tennant? We don’t have any empty apartments. Who left? You’re not renting out my place are you?” Clint asked half joking. Turing around after he finished what he thought was going to be a joke, just to see Katie having the saddest face he’d ever seen her make. He really didn’t want to knew what would make her look this down trodden, but he knew he was going to find out. “Katie, tell me. Are Simone and the kids okay? What happened?” _Please not Simone and the kids…_

 

“They’re fine Clint” Katie said, knowing what she had to say wasn’t going to be any easier for him to stomach. “ Grill’s father had a heart attack during the invasion.” She spoke slowly, and evenly, trying to hide some of the regret she was feeling, “They tried rushing him to the hospital but all available units were sent to Manhattan, and once they got here, they couldn’t make it through the traffic of people trying to get out of dodge. There was nothing anyone could have done.” Grill’s father had moved in after Grill’s passed and she new that was still too fresh for Clint to handle right now let alone knowing that Grill’s dad was gone too.

She looked up hoping Clint didn’t look any worse than he already did; but the man she saw before him wasn’t really someone she recognized. He was shaking and there were tears in his eyes. He refused to close them however and was staring at the floor with so much intensity; she thought I’d burrow a hole right to Mrs. Maloy’s apartment below. Katie didn’t know what would comfort him so she started saying anything she could think of. “We took care of the funeral, Barney and I. Took care of all his stuff. He had a nephew in Connecticut that we gave his last belongings too. Except for a few things he’d left to you.”

 

_Okay so none of that helped_. She felt atrocious. There’s nothing more she could do besides be there for him. “Clint I,” She started standing up and reaching for him again, thinking it’d be okay.

 

“DON’T” was all he needed to say and she froze. She didn’t move.

 

They stood there in silence for what felt like a year. He stood there shuddering, trying to get himself back under control. He looked like a man so broken. For the first time since hearing about everything that had happened, she questioned if he’d ever be able to put himself back together again.

 

“Katie, I need you to head out okay? I need to, straighten some things out. Alone.” He said finally straightening his shoulders at least minutely. He lifted his gaze to hers and finished. “Thanks for looking out for everyone. Especially Lucky. He should probably go with you for the time being.. I, I don’t have any of his food anymore.”

 

She knew that was a lie. She’d bought more for him when she came back and you could see the damn bowl with some of it in the damn kitchen. But she let it drop. If he wanted to be alone. Fine. But she wasn’t going to let him push her away again. Not this time.

 

“Fine, I have to let movers into the new guys apartment anyway.” she stated grabbing her things. While it might have been true, it sounded like she was trying to make an excuse to leave on her terms. “But I have to come by tomorrow to give the new guy his key. So I will be stopping by at some point. You won’t have to deal with him yourself, but you’ll be dealing with me. Got it? And if by tomorrow you haven’t gotten your hand treated I will drag you through Brooklyn to the nearest hospital, by your leg hair. Got it?!” She glared at him over her shoulder. He just nodded with the smallest hint of a false grin. “Come on Lucky.” She said turning and opening the door. When she didn’t hear him coming she stopped and tried again. “Lucky. Come on.” A little more stern. She heard the dingle of tags but not toward her.

 

She turned to see him patting into the living room, grabbing one of the left over pieces of pizza in his mouth and bring it to Clint. Clint hadn’t noticed until he felt something wet and cold on his hand. He looked down to see Pizza dog nudging the cold slice into his hand. He knelt down took the pizza out of his mouth and rubbed his ear. “Thanks boy.” He whispered, “Go on.” He said giving him a pat on his side. Lucky slowly turned and went to the door, glancing back once more before he headed down the hallway.

 

He heard Katie whisper, “Good boy Lucky” as she closed the door behind her.

 

Clint stared at the closed window and slowly turned back to his spot against the window. Seeing his own bloody hand print for the first time. He slowly raised the hand that made it and covered the still wet stain… Slowly he closed his fist and wept. He fell to his knees and sobbed like a child. With no one here to hear him, he wailed and let himself crumble. The cold leftover gift from his dog, forgotten at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint needs a hug! The Tags don't lie! Let me know what you think. Too Heavy handed? At least Katie hinted that Bruce will be joining soon! After this chapter both Clint and Bruce will share chapters! It starts getting fun from here! Hope you enjoy!


	5. This must be the place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finally arrives at this new place and Katie tries to talk Clint into trying something new with the new Guy.

“Really Natasha, you think _this_ is a good place for me to come to for _relaxation?_ ” Bruce reeeeealy wasn’t crazy about the look of the outside of the place. All of the brownstone-esque buildings in the neighborhood were partially falling down, and this one looked no different. Partially broken windows, old satellite dishes hanging off the side, random shoes along the sidewalk. _I should have known this would be a bad idea_.

 

“Well if we’d put you in a perfectly quiet neighborhood and you had an incident, it would be harder to cover up. What, would you prefer if we’d found a place for you in Jersey?” Natasha said with a sneer. She knew how much Bruce hated Jersey, for no other reason than it was incredibly densely populated. Well, and the fact that with his heightened sense of smell, it reeked.

 

“Yeah, great idea put me in the most densely populated state in the country. Sounds like a brilliant idea.” Bruce said, voice dripping with sarcasm. He knew there was no going back now. He had to at least give this a try. When the SUV pulled up, Natasha put it into park turned her head to face Bruce.

 

“In the apartment you’ll find pretty much the same furniture as you have in the tower, with a few minor adjustments for taste.” She added thinking of Tony’s taste in furniture. “All of the belongings you’d previously packed are already inside, untouched.” _Though they probably went through them all before dropping them off_. Bruce thought. “ The acting superintendent will meet you and give you your key. Whenever you want to go back to the Tower, call this number and someone will come and pick you up. Same if you need groceries or anything don’t hesitate to call. That’s what we have low ranking agents for.” She forced a smirk, trying to relieve some of the tension she could see in Bruce’s face.

 

“What no coming in and getting the grand tour?” He said unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing the one duffle bag he requested he take personally.

 

“I’ll wait for the house warming party.” She smiled. Once Bruce had stepped out of the car and shut the door, looking at her through the open window. “Enjoy your new place Bruce, I’ll see you soon.” She smiled and Bruce stood up and waved, allowing her to close the tinted window and drive off.

 

Bruce slowly turned to the apartment building and stared at the front door. _At least it’s still better than the place I stayed at in Belize._ He slowly made his way up the stoop into the apartment building. He’d been told the superintendent would be meeting him but he didn’t know where or see anyone for that matter. None of the buzzers were marked as such and most of them didn’t have apartment labels anyway. He stood there staring at the buzzers debating what to do, and feeling like a dog locked out of the house. _Of course S.H.I.E.L.D. would forget to give me a contact number, the apartment number or someway to contact anyone helpful. I guess I’ll have to call Natasha back_. Just as he reached for his phone he heard,

 

“Excuse me, Mr. Green?”

 

He turned and didn’t see what he was expecting. Before him stood a young women, probably no older than 18, 20 at most, purple shirt, black shorts, black hair puled up in a pony tail, chewing gum. Behind her was a golden retriever with one eye closed, staring at him. She asked again, “Are you Robert Green?” Bruce twitched. _Why did they have to use my real first name for an alias and Green? Really? Really Nat? ugh._

 

He nodded extending his hand, “Yes, hi, sorry a bit tired from the move and such.”

 

“Can’t be too tired considering you had movers dropping off all your stuff for you.” She said moving past him to unlock the door. She started talking about the peculiarities of the place, but Bruce was only half listening. He was more staring at the dog, which wouldn’t take his eye off of him. Not coming close, but staying close to the girl. When the women, noticed the dog hadn’t moved, she turned holding the door open. “Go on Lucky, you can go see him. His doors probably still open.” With that the dog took off like a shot, up the first set of stairs around the corner and out of sight. Bruce was shocked by the sudden movement of a dog that seemed so cautious before.

 

“Sorry,” the girl explained. “That’s Lucky. I’ve been watching him for his actual owner who just moved back into the building. He’s still in the ‘I-love-you-I-missed-you-pet-me’ stage.” Bruce smiled at the thought. “Oh and I’m Kate Bishop by the way.”

 

“Robert, ah, Green. Nice to meet you.” Bruce shook her hand; her grip was strong with callused fingertips. _Maybe a guitar player or something._ Bruce thought as she led him up to his new place. It was on the 7 th floor, walk up. _Definitely glad I didn’t have to lug my equipment up here myself._ Most of the doors were pretty worn down. Some had crayon drawings taped to them so he knew there had to be kids in the building. _Duly noted._ As the climbed he eventually a door that what open a crack, and he saw a flash of fur through the door. _That must be where Lucky went._ After that all the doors seemed the same, old, but functional.

 

By the time they got up there he was slightly winded. He needed to do add more core work to his yoga rotations. She pointed to the door marked 7E and unlocked the door motioning with her arm for him to go in first. As he entered he was surprised how nice the apartment was considering how the rest of the place looked on the outside.

 

He made his way into what was obviously the living room. They’d gotten a very similar couch set as he has in the tower, only these were grey and blue instead of green. Tony’d picked his first set, thought he was being funny. The kitchen looked fully stocked, Bruce opened up the fridge and already found it with the normal items he’d order through J.A.R.V.I.S. He smiled. _Should have known Natasha would be thorough._

 

“The master bedroom is on the right, with a smaller secondary one on the left. Bathroom’s down the hall on the left as well. Has a couple of closets scattered about.” She seemed to be just trying to fill the silence. “There’s laundry in the basement, though since you have people grocery shop for you, you probably have people to do that too.”

 

Bruce paused. She didn’t seem incredulous, just making an observation. “No I do my own laundry. My work paid for the move. I shouldn’t be bringing in any other random service men… at least not invited.”

 

“Hell, if I could afford it I’d still have people do shit, and clean for me. I’m just broke a at the moment.” Bruce raised an eyebrow wondering what changed. She did have an air of sophistication about her, even as she blew bubbles with her gum. Even though he was mostly facing away from her she must have seen his questioning look because she continued, “My Dad’s pretty well off. Works in trading… assets… money, things.”

 

Bruce smirked, “You don’t actually know what your dad does, do you?”

“Well he doesn’t know what I really do so it’s totally fair.” She said without missing a beat. Bruce has to muffle a snort of laughter at her attitude. _I think S.H.I.E.L.D. would like this girl._ Bruce chuckled to himself.

 

“And what is it you really do Ms. Bishop?” He asked not expecting an answer. What he didn’t expect was:

 

“I’m a bow-for-hire, Ex-Private investigator, present day vagabond.” She said dryly.

 

Bruce actually snorted this time before he could catch it. Trying to recover, “Do you even now what a vagabond is Ms. Bishop?” Bruce said trying not to laugh. _Yup, S.H.I.E.L.D would definitely get a kick out of this one._ “And wait, did you say _Bow_ for hire?”

 

“You’re as bad as my boss, you know that? Yes I know what a vagabond is!... Sort of. And yeah, bow as in arrow? What never heard of it?”

 

“I certainly have but I didn’t think anyone would use a Paleo…”

 

“Yeah yeah yeah, Paleolithic weapon, early hominines used them, I know I know! You _really_ do sound like my boss. Geesh.” She said, but definitely smiling. _Clint would like this guy,_ she thought. _I’ll have to introduce them once Clint’s head is a little straighter. I should probably go check on him. Kick his ass for not getting his hand fixed_. “Listen, enjoy your new place, I’m not always in the building but when I am I’m in 5B down two floors and to the left. If you need anything and I’m around I’ll do what I can.” Heading toward the good. She waved at him, flashing a smile. “Enjoy your new place Mr. Green!” She said as she closed the door behind her.

 

Bruce smiled, _Maybe this wont be so bad after all._ With that, he headed to the kitchen to make himself some tea and to start unpacking.

 

* * *

 

 

Down stairs Clint was still not adjusting well. When Lucky had pushed his way into the apartment, Clint was sitting on the couch with close to a dozen beer bottles scattered around him. Lucky ran over, nails clicking on the floor, but before he even made it to the living room Clint was up bristled and reaching for his bow. He whipped around and aimed at Lucky before he knew what was going on.

 

Lucky froze, suddenly going still. Slowly he sank to the ground and put his head on the floor with a soft whine.

 

“Ugh, Shit. Sorry boy come here…” Clint realized he’d almost shot his dog and felt like an ass. _Damn._ He though as he patted his leg for Lucky to come over. He put his bow down, but still within arms reach, and reclined on the couch. Lucky slowly walked over, almost intentionally exaggerating his movements, as if not wanting Clint to be startled by anything he was doing. When he got to the foot of the couch he just stared at Clint, waiting for instructions.

 

“Come on up boy. You’re fine.” He patted the area besides him on the couch. Lucky jumped up, curled up by his side and laid his head on his master’s leg. Nuzzling into his stomach once he knew he was welcome. Clint looked down at the dog that had obviously missed him like crazy. He smiled. “I guess you’re the one person I didn’t let down huh? I came home again and that’s all you care about.” He said rubbing Lucky’s favorite spot behind his ear. He whined a little into the touch. Clint chuckled. “Well, that and pizza. Right boy?” At the word pizza the dog’s ears instantly perked up and he got to his feet, staring at Clint, hopeful. Clint started laughing. “One track mind huh boy?” Lucky gave him one of the dogs trademark barks, almost seeming to smile, and started licking his master’s face, as if it was his favorite slice.

 

While Clint was being attacked, the front door opened and Katie walked in. With a dog on his lap Clint almost couldn’t reach his bow, but Lucky knew to duck and get out of the way. Clint didn’t even have time to knock an arrow before Katie chimed in, “No using me as target practice!! The range is over there!! Geesh. Not like I’m some sort of home invader.” This time Clint almost threw his bow aside, annoyed with his paranoia.

 

“Again, Katie. Knocking? It might be a good thing to get into the habit of before I shoot you one of these days.” He replied, obviously more annoyed with himself than with her.

 

“I never knocked before, and I’m not starting now. You’ll just have to deal.” She said trying to lighten the mood. When she saw how fallen Clint’s face still was, she gave in a little. “Fine. How about I buzz first? I have a key anyway so you don’t need buzz me in but when you hear say a double buzz, you know I’m on my way up. Fair?” She didn’t want to freak him out every time she came in, and it looked like he would unless he had a little warning.

 

Clint looked at her then, the appreciation, obvious in his eyes. “Thanks Katie.”

 

“Good. Now that we have made precautions against your paranoia did you get your hand looked at?” She knew he hadn’t but she gave him a chance to defend himself. He didn’t respond and just took another swig of his beer. When she just kept staring at him he replied:

 

“No I didn’t alright? But it can’t be too bad because I still managed to stitch up my hand so at least that’s something.” He said looking at the somewhat crooked stitches through his hand.

“Yeah but you couldn’t Hold your bow properly, don’t think I didn’t notice. Did you at least ice it?” Katie asked getting more and more annoyed.

 

“Holding a cold beer counts right?” He said holding up the bottle he’d been drinking from. Lucky had curled up next to him on the couch again, dead asleep; just happy to be in his masters presence again.

 

“Ah, No! No, Clint, it does not! And how many have you had? There weren’t even that many left in the fridge last night!” She stomped through the kitchen opening up the refrigerator to see an empty 6 pack that had been full the night before and a partially decimated 30 rack. “Christ Clint! You can go out to buy beer but not to get your fucking bow hand checked out?!?!” She was furious. He knew that tone. This wasn’t going to end well for him.

 

“Priorities Hawkeye we all have them.” He countered finishing the last dredges from his most recent beer bottle. He leaned over and grabbed another full one he had on the floor. Just as he twisted off the cap, Katie snatched it out of his hand.

 

“And right now my fucking priority is not dealing with a drunk fucking smart ass at 10:15 in the morning!” She stomped over to the nearest window, threw it open and started to poor it out over the fire escape.

 

Clint looked over and all he could manage saying was, “Oh… beer.” But as he went to continue they both heard a sudden “UAAagh!!!” from outside. They were both instantly on their feet, bows in hand both leaning out the window at full draw before they saw who it was.

 

“Really? Pouring beer on me before I even step in the door?” called the voice from down below.

 

Instantly Clint lowered his arrow with a half sigh/half chuckle. “Well Barn, if you’d come in the front door you wouldn’t have gotten drenched.”

 

“Well A) you never made me a damn key so I couldn’t get in and b) this window is OVER the front entrance. So, Yeah I would have!” Barney shot back as he climbed his way up the fire escape drenched. “At least I know you’re home. Nice to see you too Bishop.” He said pushing her and her still knocked arrow out of the way so he could climb in through the window.”

 

“I thought we agreed you’d give him a few days before you came waltzing back.” She sneered. Clint wasn’t surprised they didn’t get along. They were both too much like him. Maybe from opposite ends of the spectrum.

 

“No, you said I agreed to that. I never did. Besides, since you can’t legally drink yet, someone has to keep Clint company” He said with a grin. _Great now I’m stuck with two baby sitters._ Though really he appreciated Barney coming back.

 

“Look. Guys. Thanks. I mean it, thanks for offering to look out for me but I’m fine, I don’t need you guys watching me like a toddler.” Clint really just wanted to drink and be alone. Maybe try and sleep, but probably not.

 

“Now you listen to me.” Katie had had it. “Whether you like it or not, me and birdbrain over here aren’t going anywhere. Right now between lack of sleep and the alcohol you can’t find your feet let alone take care of yourself. And if you think I’m going to let you fuck over what remains of your life just because you’re moping around you have another thing coming!” Katie was FURIOUS. He’d never seen her this mad before. We went to open his mouth to try and apologize, but she continued, “No. You’re going to sit down, shut up and listen to me. I don’t care if you want to hear this or not you’re going to fucking sit through it. You trained me. You’ve coached me, and you’ve given me some of the best fucking advice I live by. In fact, I wouldn’t be here without you.” She stared at him then, staring into his heart where she knew he tried to hide. “You may have fucked up and made mistakes but join the FUCKING club. How many times have I nearly gotten you killed in the field because I didn’t think before acting? How many jobs did Trickshot over here pull before you helped set him straight.”

 

“Hey, leave me out of this.” Barney replied

 

“Shut up it’s true.” Shooting another glare at him before returning her attention to Clint, her eyes softening. She needed to hit him where it hurt. “How many people did Natasha kill before you saved her.” That’s what struck a chord. At Natasha’s name Clint flinched, and his face started to twitch. He couldn’t help it. Kate walked over to him and knelt in front of him, not touching him, but close. “Remember what you used to say whenever someone died in the field and we couldn’t save them? ‘Remember but don’t wallow. Forgive yourself, but never forget” She paused thinking of how many times he’d talked her off of the edge. Not an edge as high as Clint was standing on right now, but an edge nonetheless. “You’re scared Clint, whether you want to admit it or not, we get it. Just know you don’t have to go through this alone. You had to be alone under Loki, but you’re not his anymore. And we only want to help, not babysit, not chastise, not control, just… return the favor you’ve done for us before.”

 

Clint had slowly put his head in his hands as she spoke, still twitching minutely. He didn’t want to listen but he couldn’t ignore it. He’s never been dependent on anyone. Even Natasha, he’d always been the person she could rely on, her rock when she needed it. An agent Fury could rely on him. Even Hill, Coulson... But he’d been pushed so far, his mind released from any concept of other people’s suffering that he completely forgot what death felt like. He’d forgotten what each death meant and took advantage of their passing. Under Loki, he looked at everyone like they were just another pawn he had to get out of the way. He was no better than Loki.

 

Just as his head started going down that rabbit hole Lucky leaned in and rested his head against Clint’s. Clint felt the weight of someone else leaning on him, and slowly looked up. Lucky, Katie and even Barney all had the same look on their faces. Worry and compassion. Not anger, not spite, not even pity. Just, concern.

 

Clint slowly raised his hand and started petting Lucky with shaking hands. For once it didn’t bother him. Seemed like a reminder that he wasn’t a perfect killing machine anymore. He was weak and broken, but no one else’s weapon, but his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters kind of in one! Didn't feel like splitting Clint's and Bruce's chapters up anymore. Things get exciting after this. I've never written a chapter like the next one before so lets see how it goes!
> 
> After this the chapters will probably be updated more slowly. This is the last chapter I have written as of now so Enjoy!
> 
> Comments and feedback always more than welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic since High school and I hope you enjoy it! It's probably going to be a long one!
> 
> As my screen name suggests I am actually dyslexic and have a hard time finding errors in my work. So please excuse the Grammar! I proof read as best I can I swear! Any and all feed back is appreciated! Enjoy!
> 
> Also the title of this piece and every chapter are song titles of one band. Bonus points to those who can figure it out. :P


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